


Neon light

by deadpunk (Mr_Doctor)



Category: Trench - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Cults, DEMA (Twenty One Pilots), Death, Dema fic, Dialogue, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Identity, Loss, Original Character(s), Past Character Death, Philosophy, Suicidal Thoughts, Topic - Death, Trench Era, just a bit, kind of, vialism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25307740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Doctor/pseuds/deadpunk
Summary: The world is messy, full of pain and lies. Neon graveyard is a lonly place that no one visits. Exept, maybe, those who are lost and those who doubt. And you never know what you can find around lifeless stones.orClancy has so much on his mind that he can't quite understand. A strange encounter helps him a bit.





	Neon light

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bit sad and dark, I've never written something quite like it. I assumed I can use Clancy as a main character though it's really not important whether it's Clancy, Tyler, you or any unknown person.  
> Also, sorry for my english, it might suck. And please leave comments I really wanna know what you think!

Clancy was walking around gravestones as if they were his home, though he hadn’t felt _at home_ since nine. Everything was wrapped in a bright neon light making lifeless stones remind you even more about the past. His friend flashed in memories that seemed so colorful despite gray towers of Dema on the horizon. That time the sky felt so blue, and gray could be anything you wanted. Now it all faded away. It lies right here, just under your feet, buried so deep you could never bring it back.

“Here,” someone said, passing him a handkerchief. Clancy almost jumped from surprise: no one comes here, not really. The graveyard is a memorial, the only bright and glowing thing around, you can practically feel it from everywhere. No need to come. It’s just an always-there reminder standing behind like a shadow.

“Who- who are you?” mumbled Clancy, still shaking. He didn't take a handkerchief — his sleeves were good enough to wipe tears. 

“Me? Well, I'm nobody. I can't quite remember when I was someone. Was I ever?” The man, older than anyone Clancy had ever met, turned his head up as if looking for something. But neon light was too bright to see the sky. It meant to blinds your eyes and to blind your thoughts.

“Aren’t you too old? I've never seen anyone so old.” Clancy asked, staring blankly at the gray hair and wrinkles all over the man’s face. It looked so unnatural, because everyone here passed away rather sooner than later.

He laughed. And for a moment it felt that the genuine smile of a stranger was brighter than the neon reminders of fallen dreams. “It’s not a miracle or anything. You see, kid, I was so afraid to die that I just didn't.”

“But Vialism teaches that-”

“Who cares what it teaches. You doubt it too, right? So tell me, are you afraid to die? Don't you dare quote any Vialism books, just think for a moment.”

Clancy didn't know what to answer, he just stood there, looking at the faceless grave of his best friend wondering whether that made him happy, whether that fulfilled the purpose. What if it didn't? 

“I think... I think I am.” He finally answered, voice so low that for a moment it seemed like nobody heard him. But Nobody heard him.

“I thought so. People who don’t doubt never come here. That’s why it’s a safe place for us.” Clancy couldn’t feel himself safe anywhere... He looked at an old man who found his peace not in death but in a lonely graveyard. Does he have as much on his mind as Clancy has? “Kid, do you think there’s something after death?”

“I don't really know. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for not knowing things. It’s not something to be ashamed of, it means you still have a lot to explore. And this is good. I like to think that after we die we are born again. As another person or an animal. You can become whoever you want. Sounds nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Being born as someone else… Somewhere else. But would it matter if I don't remember who I am?” Clancy closed his eyes, imagining being a bird, flying through the endless skies not controlled by anyone. Not even the gravity. Is that how freedom would feel like?

“Matter… Does anything matter at all? Do you matter? Or this place? These gravestones?” He paused for a moment, and touched a cold stone so gently as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. Clancy remembered that he’s not the only one who lost someone. Right now the graveyard wasn’t a glorious monument, it was a painful and sad ode to the people who were still alive. To the people, whose family and friends were now no more than cold stones wrapped in a shining package. 

“Dying is so much easier, isn’t it?”

“Of course, kid. It always is.”

And for the rest of the day they sat there along with quiet humming of lights, maybe hoping to hear a message from the dead, or maybe… hoping to find hope.

**Author's Note:**

> It turned out shorter than I expected but I hope you liked it.


End file.
